


Hunters Trophy

by Ladsalt



Category: Homestuck, Original Work
Genre: Murder, POV Second Person, eating people, irresponsible lusii/parenting, its lusii eating trolls so not cannibalism but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladsalt/pseuds/Ladsalt
Summary: Not all of the trolls will be selected tonight. Oh some will die certainly, and that has already begun. Others will wander into the wilderness to seek out their lusii. Of all the lusii the ones who have come tonight are only the very industrious..., or hungry.But of course you don't know this. You don't know anything.(A short story about my troll Elswor and his Lusii.)
Kudos: 1





	Hunters Trophy

The evening has come at last. Exhausted trolls emerge from the caverns to meet the lusii waiting at the exit. Victorious from their trails many of them will be selected today and will go off to build hives in the coming weeks. Others emerge with their grey skin tinted in the hues of their blood, already sporting broken horns and bones. Trails of technicolor blood spread out behind them as they finally collapse outside. Some with relieved smiles, some too tired even for that. For a few minutes as the trlls collect outside mulling around unsure of how the selection process is supposed to go.

The smell of salt and kelp and the sound of waves calls to the seadwellers who wander towards the familiar sensations and their aquatic lusii. A Howlbeast picks its ways sniffing through the trolls as do several other white creatures searching for a troll that rings as theirs. One Olive blood stands proudly as the beast comes near nose twitching as it considers her, and then her face falls as it moves away to another one of her caste, a a more tired troll sitting in the clearing nearly dozing. As the wolf consider this one, longer, more intently A strange expression goes over the first trolls face. She lunges at the newcomer bungling into them and bearing down with her fists. The wolf retreats and sits, interested by this turn of events as other lusii make off with their charges. The olive blood beats the second troll until their feeble resistance becomes a resigned cowering. She stands smeared with blood and looks to the howlbeast triumphantly. Padding forward the beast snaps her up by the back of her shirt and carries her off.

She is not you.

Be the troll she beat to a pulp======>

This troll is dead. A spider lusus pauses while carrying it's charge away to snap the body up as well, it will make a fine snack and an example to its charge of what occurs if it is not well fed.

Who are you?======>

You are the exhausted rustblood collapsed outside the caverns, you are one of the ones who only barely survived their trials. Other lusii pad around looking for their charges. They do not select you. 

While you are not currently conscious to even consider the idea, not all of the trolls will be selected tonight. Oh some will die certainly, and that has already begun. Others will wander into the wilderness to seek out their lusii. Of all the lusii the ones who have come tonight are only the very industrious..., or hungry.

But of course you don't know this. You don't know anything. In a haze of blood loss and sleep deprivation you is an abstract concept. The fleshy body you guess is yours because it hurts like hell seems distant. It is hard to distinguish one body from another, they are all fuzzy shapes that blur into each other. You do not wonder what will happen as the evening waxes what will happen if you are still here come morning when the sun comes up. Why would anything happen? It does not really occur to you that you are also in the clearing with the other trolls.. 

A herd of fluffy looking baa-creatures spread out into the clearing, inspecting the remaining trolls with their long snouts. One of them wanders up to a troll and looks at them. The troll kneels down to pet the wool of the creature. Abruptly its snout splits into a mass of writhing tentacles. Its front paws are revealed to be long slimy clawed hands as it grabs at the troll enveloping its head. Theres is a struggle and muffled screaming. then a sickening crack and the body slumps to the floor. 

Lambflayers are not known for having custodian instincts.

The remaining trolls who are able to do so scatter into the woods, the dense cover will protect them come the day, and lusii will find them eventually. Or they won't but it hardly seems to matter

The ones who run are not you.

Be a lambflayer======>

You are starving. There is a whole flock of you, it is so hard to fill so many stomachs. But tonight there are plentiful soft troll amygdalas, good eats for all of you. Your apetittes are whetted from the one one of you had just ate. Leaving the brainless body you go looking for your meals. Some of you chase down the fleeing trolls,as your tentacles wrap around their heads they lick their weak troll brains through their skulls and taste their blind wiggler terror. what some of you expend in zeal others of you make up in resourcefullness, One troll is laying near the entrance, and a soft prod causes it to whimper and confirms that it is still breathing. This is good, dead trolls are bad eats. From one of your other mouths you feel the trolls mind lick yours back, you spit that one out. Bad eats.

Your face splits to taste the one laying by the cavern. You expect to taste sadness, fear, maybe determination. All good flavors. Tentacles tighten around it and your mind laps across its. You taste rot. An empty mind, the troll reflects the hunger and anticipation your lick put in its mind. This is different from trolls with telic abilities. It does not think like them. It does not think, the flavor is like licking your own mind. You do not know what to do about this. Bad eats, you decide, you look for a tastier troll.

Hours pass. You are satisfied, but only just and only for tonight. All of you trot back together heading for your vale as other predator lusii pick of the leavings of your feast. Ears pick up a familiar noise. One of you trots over to see what it is, you think you could be hungry again if- oh, the icky troll. None of you want to eat it. But you'll be hungrier tommorow, perhaps then you'll- NONE of you want to eat it. Spoiled empty mind is bad eats. It's like yours, the thought makes all of you stop to consider at once. Oh it will never be able to talk to you like the telepathic trolls, and there is only one of it while there are many of you. But…it doesnt quite seem to know that. It is strange.

The sky is brightening you must make a choice.

You grab it in several mouths. Careful not to taste it this time. Perhaps it will be like the charges of spider custodians that feed their lusii. Perhaps it is broken and it will not wake up. You will not lose either way.

Lambflayers are not known for having custodian instincts.

Perigees: Pass, Be the troll======>

You are the troll, you are much the same as the rest of your flock. All of you are very fluffy and white, except the one of you that is taller and only has a very small amount of greasy black wool at his very top. Because you are a very generous flock you allow this one to shear your wool so he can make his own, and then you are more the same. All of you see out of everyones eyes and feel through everyone elses mouths. Except the one of you who cannot, he cannot even see with his own eyes, and he wears thick shards of glass to fix it. 

The one of you who is not like the others built a hut in your vale, which is all well and the same to you. You were not fond of the new one having to cuddle so close under all of you to blot out the sun when the day came. That you looks tasty, but it tastes lke the rest of you. You know, you've checked. Yucky bad eats.

You wish the yucky you had friends. You think you should go make some tastier friends.

One day you leave the vale. You dont kow where you go because you can't see from this set of your eyes. But then again, /you/ do know.

You go to the city. You can see it from the vale because you are taller than the rest of you. which is still not very tall at all. It has towers, hiveblocks, and lots of you! Not the baa-beast fluffy you's, the taller grey and black and all kinds of colors you's! More you than you've seen since you were just a wiggler! One of the you's you meet seems confused when you tell them you live in the vale. They say the lambflayers live out there. You tell her that yes you live out there. You are not sure why the taller stranger blooded you finds this confusing. You aren't talking right. This is a strange idea to you. You have never know anyone who spoke differently, but you have never known anyone who spoke without licking in your head either.

This you finds that funny, they say if you come around their stem more often and talk to the other you's, no they say trolls, other trolls you'll lose some of your baa-creature accent. You like this idea. But you will have to see what the rest of you thinks. This y- this troll laughs at that, shaking a fluffy mane of hair. She tells you to come back whenever your lusus lets you.

The rest of you is sad that you didnt bring any friends home, let alone a tasty one. Just same yucky you...

The other you-troll- She was right, a few weeks of chatting together aimlessly in her stem while her roar-cat lusus watches and your accent does diminish. Later still you learn by copying the things she says, to stop always referring to all of you. You do not however learn to diminish yourself down to one troll. And your troll friend cannot explain it adequately. "Its, like ' one and alone' without the rest of them." This does not make sense, you are never one and alone. You are a flock in the vale, and here you part of her stem. To be alone would be strange. She says give it time and you'll figure it out. When the rest of you lick your mind again in frustrated hunger you think you should figure out about getting food. Even rotten food tempts a starving stomach. But you can think of better food.

Invite the nice troll over======>

You do just that. 

But before that, though not very much before, you have a fight.

"We're not going to do anything until you tell me what you want to do!" She snaps. You just told her! You said it with a perfectly grammatically correct use of we and everything! But you try again ">//We should go-" You hear a troll sized growl, that is not what she wanted to hear.

"I didn't ask what we should do, I want to know what you want to do!" She snarls fluffing her hair and then sighs, "You know what to say, why are you being so stubborn. We're not the same troll! And you're not a baa-creature!" You dont understand why its so important to her that you understand this 'one and alone' thing. It doesn't bother you. You don't want to be alone, and apart from anything much less yourself. Why is she so intent on you being alone? You glare at her and say nothing, grinding your flat teeth. Sometimes this works and she relents and you go do whatever you suggested or she suggests something. Today is not one of those days, "Fine maybe you are a lambflayer then," She begins and your expression brightens. She turns up her nose and crosses her clawed hands," and roarcats don't concern themselves with the opinions of baa-creatures, so until you're not a baa-creature we just can't be friends anymore."

In your two sweep old mind you think this is the meanest thing you have ever heard. Your face flushes burgundy as she shrugs pretending you aren't still standing there in her stem. Like a cat who got a chirpbird. She's dumb if she thinks baa-creatures care what she thinks! The smuggness of her expression make it clear that she thinks you'll cave this time. ">//...i-I, think... we could visit the vale.//<" The first part comes out strained, and the second part is too fast but you say it like she wants, and its your turn to be smug as she jumps back up to bound around her stem like she won some great victory. 

Back in the vale You are very pleased to see the tasty friend icky you brings home.


End file.
